Playing With Fire
by miss.mermaid-ofthelake
Summary: This is Hermione at her best, hopefully. As a very powerful witch, what I believe she will become, and she can achieve anything. But what will she have to give up? I hope to do much more. Rated for future chapters. Its my first fanfic so please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

"Please don't go," Hermione begged, "I need you. I'm nothing without you!"

She was standing alone in an empty room, pleading with pure thin air. He'd left, apparated in the blink of an eye before she could come up with a valid argument for him not to leave. Her tears looked real, her pleading sounded genuine, yet that familiar skipped heartbeat made her feel giddy.

She knew that familiar pleasure, that giddiness. It was like when she came top in class, when only she knew the answer or when she mastered a spell before everyone else. She had got tired of bombarding her mind with spells, learning all she could, she wanted a challenge, only something she could do and she had found it.

"I love you," she whispered, sitting heavily onto the big four-poster bed that dominated the room. She knew he might still be listening. She let the tears fall slowly down her slender pale cheeks, soothing the angry tinge that had been there so soon before. She knew that getting angry with him never worked. She didn't understand it, where had this temper come from? She prided herself on being so controlled.

She looked behind her, a black rose appeared on the pillow behind her. It hovered above the pillow, she picked it up and the petals fluttered to the floor. His cold voice came from them as they fell to the ground, where they burned to ash.

"Don't leave," he sneered at her from nowhere "I shall want you here when I get back." But was that a hint of tenderness in his voice? She felt his hand upon her back, cold, but in some way tender, almost gentle. She knew he was not there. His magic was truly extraordinary. On an academic level, of course.

She would leave. That's what he wanted her to do and she knew it. She got up from the bed and crossed the room.

A year previously, Hermione is standing in Harry's front room gob smacked at what she thought he was asking her to do. The room could have been nice if it hadn't been covered in pictures, newspaper clippings, random words scribbled on bits of paper and bizarre objects littered here and there omitting strange smells and noises.

Harry, Hermione noted, looked a lot different now from when they had left school 7years ago. The war was still raging and the three friends were just as close, Hermione and Ron keeping their promise by loyally sticking with Harry. Harry had resigned to stay within the order and was now its new leader since they lost Minerva in battle. There had been so many losses, Hermione reflected, but she tried not to think about it. They were still strong, and she just needed to take one look at Harry, to feel confident that the war would soon be over.

He was stronger now. Every muscle in his face and body was defined. In everything he said there was meaning, in every step he took there was direction. His eyes were always focussed on the future, always calculating something behind that same old mop of black scruffy hair. He had forgotten his old shyness, his bad temper. He had grown into a determined and brilliant wizard, truly immersed in magic and his mission. He was a wonderful leader, inspiring hope and awe in all those around him. She looked at him, amazed at how far he had come.

"Yes Hermione," he said, getting to his feet and waking her from her thoughts. "That is exactly what I want you to do."

"But, surely its not possible, not reasonable" she wondered, more to herself.

"Of course it is. Look, you know like me, he's twisted, a non-human; he's nothing like us, yet he's still on some levels human. He still has his weaknesses. Everyone has their weakness Hermione. And we need to use them. God, I've thought long and hard about asking you this. You'll be in so much danger, and Ron is barely speaking to me. But I had to, I need you and if anyone can do it, you can."

"He has weaknesses?" she asked.

"Of course! We've always known that his weakness is his inability to recognise the most powerful magic of all. I'm not suggesting he can love Hermione. No, he is far past that stage; I do not think he ever could. I am suggesting that you are the most powerful witch of your generation. I am suggesting that Voldemort is the most power hungry wizard of his. I am saying that he will want to control you. He will notice that you won't submit. He will want to use you, but he will want to gain your trust and control you. He needs challenges Hermione, just as you do."

"It won't work! He is the most powerful wizard ever. I am nothing against him. What do I have?"

"You are the best Leglimens in the world! And you know it!"

"That may be so," she said, blushing madly "but I can't fool HIM."

"Yes you can. He is weaker than you know. The death of Nagini damaged him. His death eaters don't have a clue. His power drains them, they fall under, become nothing in front of his eyes. Powerful witches and wizards yes, but so easy. He wants to prove he is still strong, he wants you."

"No, he wants you."

"Hermione. Do you not see? Of course he wants me. But he knows you are close to me. He wants to collect you; you will be the pride of his collection. Remind you of Slughorn, doesn't it? I think he was quite inspired by his old teacher, you know. Surrounding him with the most influential witches and wizards. Not to hide his incompetence, no, he is in no way incompetent. But he does it to show his power, to show how he can control such powerful people."

Hermione took a deep breath. Could she do it, could she seduce Voldemort? Could she dance around his powers, keep him wanting her? Could she make him think he had got her? It was a far cry form her bookworm days, but she had learnt so much over the years and she was indeed very powerful, and had taken remarkably well to leglimency. She knew that Harry needed her now more than ever. But, could she give up Ron…?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Once she had escaped his defences, which were challenging to say the least, she began to wonder what she would do with herself. She looked around at where she had apparated, without second thought. She had gone to the burrow. She looked up at the crumbling building, which was the same as ever. Her heart fluttered, as it had not done for a long while. The sight of this familiar old building filled her with comfort like nothing else.

She tried to force herself to turn back, to go and check in with the order, see what was going on. Although it was so early in the morning, there was sure to be a hive of activity at headquarters, there always was. But a guilty thought stole into her brain. She was a witch. She could do anything.

Before she could give her self time to chicken out she was in Ron's bedroom, standing by his door, having performed a disillusionment charm on herself, she knew he couldn't see her, even if he did wake up. He was lying in bed, fast asleep, his mouth wide open, as ungraceful as they come, breathing heavily. His hair was ruffled and he had thrown his sheets half off in the heat of the night. She remembered those check pyjama bottoms, remembered their softness and longed to be cuddled up to him again. Her back against the smooth warmth of his naked chest…She stopped herself.

She was supposed to be the mistress of control. She felt her cheek and realised she had been crying. Crying with longing and loss. Loss of that safety, that complete love she had known. He may forgive her one day, realise why she had to do this, once the war had been won. She turned and left, battling the Weasley's security defences far too easily. She wondered how she could warn Molly and Arthur that they needed to improve the protection on their house, without admitting to her break in.

She returned to a place she often went when she had time to herself, and was not in the mood for company, (which was usually only Harry nowadays.) She had not seen her family since she took on this task, she couldn't take that risk. She had apparated to a bench overlooking the sea. It was a lonely bench, she often reflected, this was such a hard to reach part of the coastline that few muggles ever visited it and it appeared that witches and wizards did not bother. It was a shame, as it was such a beautiful place, often reflecting her thoughts, today it was warm but the sea was choppy, smashing against the cliffs below with a deafening roar.

As she gazed out to sea she pondered something that she often thought about. Did Voldemort have sexual feelings? If he did, it would certainly make getting closer to him a lot easier, but could she bare it, could she lie to that extent? She thought about who was said to be the like a muggle equivalent of Voldemort: Adolph Hitler. He had had a mistress, but of course he had not had his soul ripped in to 7 pieces. But did his soul affect his sexual appetite? Had he risen above that? It could be something to offer him further control, which he would of course relish, but he would have to lower himself to a certain intimacy, to allow certain urges to control him. Could he bare that? Did he even have the right equipment? After all, the rest of his body was so twisted. Hermione tried to suppress the urge to giggle and throw up at the same time. She looked round at a rustle she had heard earlier. She assumed she was just being paranoid as usual, he couldn't…

But he could. She didn't let her surprise register on her face as he moved towards her. She had covered her tracks so easily, had she not? No. She had forgotten. Her heart had been aching too madly to allow her time to think properly. How could she have been so stupid?

"I am disappointed." He sneered, "At how easy it was to find you, little one." He stretched out a long icy finger, stroking the side of her cheek.

She pushed any thought to the back of her mind. Her mind was blank and she was now acting on reflex. She smiled and leaned into the touch of his hand, as if longing for his touch. She did not allow any thought of Ron's warm rough hands stoking her to float into her mind. She was in control.

"But, I wanted you to come." She lied. "I desperately need to talk to you, and we never get any time alone together." She pouted, and tossed her hair slightly in an utterly un-Hermione gesture. At this, he bent his mouth into an abominable smile. A smile that could kill. Did she see his eyes, flick down to her breasts? She could not tell.

"What is it? I am a busy man. I am the ruler of an empire. I have not got time to waste on your silly stunts." His usual twisted charm had gone, this thrilled Hermione more than ever. It meant he was feeling the strain, the pressure to regain control of the situation. She was getting to him!

She smiled sweetly, touching his arm gently. "It is about Harry Potter" She saw that familiar red glint in his eye, which was present whenever she mentioned his name. "I went to see him this morning, when you said you wanted me to remain behind. Of course, I would never have disobeyed you if it had not been so very important. He wanted to see me, and I thought it was time to get some information from him. He swallowed my rubbish about having to visit a relative for a while. What an idiot! He looks weak. He wouldn't tell me where he had been but he's ruined, he's so ill, I've never seen him like this before." She finished with a seductive smile.

"What spells? What is it that has damaged him? I do not want to know Hermione if the idiot has simply flown into a tree and fallen off his broomstick!"

"Complicated magic. No wounds that I could see and he wouldn't visit St.Mungo's, but he could not fix it himself."

"How does this help me? I still do not know where he is and you insist you are not the secret keeper."

Hermione's heart beat faster, but she did not lose her cool. She knew that Ron was the secret keeper, he had stupidly insisted on taking the job. "We do not need the secret keeper. He is very rarely at headquarters or at his poxy home. You can track him down, I know where he is going"

Hope you like it! Thank you to those people that have reviewed! xxx 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three 

Hermione woke up, her body aching. She lay naked in the dark bed sheets not daring to move, flashes of the night before shot through her mind. She could not believe what had happened. It had been so intense, so out of this world. But, in every other way it had been the worst night of her life. The dark lord had been so excited at the prospect of ridding himself of Harry; he had allowed his human impulses to play out. He had played what he saw as the last step in the game of controlling Hermione.

She knew differently. Her body longed for the gentle touch of Ron more than ever. To be loved by him, to be held by him, the pain of her aching broken body was nothing compared to the burning pain of longing, of love. Voldemort had left her broken in body and mind, but he could never take her love. He was no fool, and had bound her body in a spell so strong she could barely move, and her mind was quickly being obscured with grey smoke.

He appeared out of nowhere and stood beside her. "Oh, little one. Are we having trouble recovering from my charms?" His mouth bent into that blood-curdling grimace. "How well this week is going, I have conquered you, completely. And now I am going to kill Harry Potter. You will be coming with me; my excellent magical trickery will prevent you from turning against me. The filthy traitor that I know you can be. You can watch Harry die with me, won't that be fun, little one?"

She smiled at him. The part of her that was burning in pain and obscuring her mind felt a lean towards him; his power, his strength and that part of her knew Harry would be dead within the day. But, Hermione had been prepared for such charms and she remained control over her heart and her spirit. She loathed him and she knew that Harry would be able to conquer him. Soon the war would be over, this nightmare would be over, and she could go back to Ron.

She pushed the urge to scream out in pain to the back of her mind, to the back of her heart. His cold hands touched her pale skin. Her blood froze, but her body did not betray her, as it leaned into his touch. He took his wand and placed it against her left arm. Then, the pain in the rest of her body was nothing and the pain in her mind was forgot as she thought her left arm had been shattered. It was as if the bone had been broken into a million pieces and twisted through her skin, her arm full of excruciating heat. She screamed out, the fingernails on her right hand tore into her hand, splitting the skin. She bit hard onto her lip, letting the blood trickle down her chin. And then it began to subside. She managed to turn her head to look down at her arm, and saw the dark mark blazed against her skin.

He dressed her fragile and broken body. As all she could do was stare ahead, thinking death would soon be upon her. She could hear the seductive voices beckoning her to break, to give up. He picked her up in his arms like a rag doll. She stared at him with as much spirit as she could muster and he laughed, his chilling mirthless laugh. They apparated to Hogsmeade, where Hermione had told him Harry would be visiting Fred and George's second branch, in order to chase up one of their top secret protective lines. He lay her on the ground next to the Weasley's shop in the deserted street. There was no sign of Fred, George or Harry. Hermione knew that he would not have brought any death eaters, Harry was his, and he wanted to finish the job on his own. All the horcruxes had been found and destroyed. This could be Harry's chance. But did he have a chance?

Voldemort did not know that each one of his Horcruxes had been destroyed. He only knew of the diary and of course his beloved snake, Nagini, he believed himself immortal still. He also did not know that Harry would be prepared for Voldemort, thinking his tired and beaten down after a so-called battle with a death eater. Harry was fine. And he was now walking from the other side of the street.

Hermione spotted him first, but could do nothing. But Voldemort had seen something else and was looking in the opposite direction. Harry was coming from the right as well, and the left and from a nearby deserted shop. Hermione counted. Twelve Harrys. Her heart dropped, this was his plan. Voldemort took a minute to recover but then he laughed, he laughed and laughed, surrounded by the multiple Harry Potters.

Polyjuice potion, Hermione thought. And began to count off who they could be in her mind, wondering who of these people she knew. Shacklebolt, Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Bill, Charlie would all be there. Harry himself of course. She presumed, several aurors who she did not know. Her heart dropped…Ron would be amongst them, standing by his best friend. She searched for any sign amongst the Harrys, a sign that Ron was there. Then the Harry closest to her, right in her eye-line, turned slightly. He looked at her though Harry's eyes, taking in her bruised and broken body, her pitiful state, and his body softened, just for an instant. No one else saw the look that he gave Hermione, one of utmost love and devotion. That was him, that was Ron and he still loved her. Her heart jumped.

Voldemort flashed his wand in a dramatic display before any of the Harry's could do anything, and a snake appeared in front to each of his enemies. A menacing huge snake reared in front of each of them, jaw wide, and ready to bite.

"You're playing dirty Potter! How unlike you. How un-heroic. I, on the other hand am ever the good guy. I have brought your little friend to watch me kill you though. Let us give her a good show."

Harry knew that he was the only Parselmouth other than Voldemort and he was the only one that could tame the snakes. But before he had regained his shock at seeing Hermione, the Harry to his right had flashed his wand and the snakes burned in ashes at their feet.

The battle that ensued for Hermione was nothing but a display of fantastic magic, flashes and screams. Two of the Harry's were wounded and had apparated. She prayed to God that they would be OK, she presumed they would be, if they had the strength to apparate from the nightmare that was unfolding in front of her eyes.

The polyjuice potion was beginning to wear off and soon she saw some of her friends appearing from the disguises. Ron's hair now showed, bright red and flashing fiercely in the sunlight. Voldemort moved in Ron's direction. He knew of their friendship, he wanted to play with Harry some more. Ron pulled himself up to his full height, in a quite impressive manner. Reminding Hermione somewhat of a young lion, courageous and strong. Her body and mind was now just a sliver in reality, but her heart swelled and her eyes swam with tears as she saw Ron's display of love for Harry…and for her.

He fought well, but Voldemort was too quick for him. He hit him with a powerful curse that sent him flying to the ground; Hermione did not know if he was alive. Harry saw this and jumped in front of Ron, before Voldemort could finish him off.

"This is it!" Harry roared. "You have hurt enough people. It's over." He saw images of his Mom and Dad flash before his eyes. He saw his two best friends in the whole world, the two people in the world he loved most, and the two people he would die for, lying on the floor, their lives ebbing away, he was not afraid.

"Fighting words, silly boy" Voldemort screeched above spells he attempted to deflect from the several aurors. He was wounded. His hands were bloody, but he did not seem to notice.

Harry summoned the dead Nagini and let it wrap around Voldemort's neck. He saw the look of horror in his eyes and smiled, deflecting his now weakening curses as Nagini grew tighter and tighter. Voldemort attempted to speak to the dead snake. But it was no good. Harry hit him with a curse so strong that he fell back, and he screamed. A scream without pain, but a scream of anger.

Voldemort apparated. Casting a look of loathing and power at them all, and especially at Hermione. She felt his curse ease slightly. He appeared at the top of the three broomsticks, and in the blink of an eye, the building was on fire, encircling him, grasping him, pinning him down. Harry was wounded. He was having trouble standing up. He looked over at Hermione, her eyes began to close, if the spell wasn't released soon, she would die.

His heart began to strengthen, as the aurors held Voldemort down to the roof, whilst he fired curses at them all. Harry turned to Ron. His first friend. The best friend he could ever have, who had been with him through everything, who would have died for him, and was doing so as he stood there. Who was there to help him when no one else was. Ron's family had taken him in when no one else wanted him. Ron had stood by him through everything, Ron had believed in Harry, had seen him for the person that he was and wanted to be. He had given up everything for Harry, even Hermione.

Harry was filled with an immense and miraculous strength. A strength that Voldemort would never know. A strength that he knew would be the end of Voldemort and the making of him. He was filled with the kind of strength you can only ever know when your world has been ripped apart and everyone you love has been killed or wounded. Voldemort had taken his parents, Sirius and Dumbledore and now his two best friends were on the floor, dying. He knew, finally, what Dumbledore meant. He could do this because he had to, because he had to do these people proud, they had given him everything and it was time for pay back! He was Dumbledore's man through and through.

The power filled him from his head to feet, pulsing through his veins. He rose through the air, impressively, to face Voldemort. Who flashed several killing spells in his direction. He stood in thin air and deflected them in a blink of an eye. Tonight, he was invincible.

The aurors stood and watched, in awe of Harry. They had ensured that Voldemort could not escape in all the ways they knew; now it was up to Harry. He was no longer the boy-that-lived, he was a man. He was the one that could save them.

Fear flashed in Voldemort's eyes at the sight of Harry as the curses collapsed in from all sides. The fire flared up around him, licking him. The magical fire attacked him from all sides, making him scream in pain, a scream that no one would ever forget. Voldemort knew now that his Horcruxes had been destroyed. He screamed a scream of a desperate and alone man. A scream where death was a release. A scream that seemed to fill the whole world with pain, loss, and emptiness.

The house exploded and everyone was scattered backwards. He was gone. It was over. Harry collapsed to the floor, all his strength gone. Tonks and Lupin ran to him. Nothing could ruin this moment for Harry, he was wounded, but he was alive. He was alive! He had done them all proud. As he watched the building collapse into ash, he looked up at the night sky, and whispered a silent thank you; to all those people he had loved and lost. He knew that his parents were looking down on him and they were celebrating somewhere that night.

Hermione felt the spell disappear and regained control of her mind. She was intensely weak, but managed to find the strength to push the concerned people away as she dragged herself to Ron. She laid her head on his chest and wailed into the night. She wept so hard those around her stood back. Everything that had happened in the past years was nothing compared to this. Voldemort was gone, but so was her love. He lay there, spread-eagled on the floor. Blood was still pouring from him and covering her. The war was over, but what was left for her in this world?

_This was a REALLY hard chapter to write, so I hope it's not too bad and that you enjoyed it._

_Please Review. _

_Lorna, xxx_


	4. Chapter 4

"Shush Mione" He said suddenly, leaning in and pressing his finger gently against her lips. She stopped in her enthusiastic rant about the state of the ministry.

"Why are you smiling?" She managed from behind his finger.

"Because you're the most beautiful thing in the world and I just needed to tell you that." He moved his hand to her back and pulled her closer to him, kissing her passionately. He caressed her back, sending shivers down her spine, then pulled away, just a fraction, so that he could look at her.

_He stared in to her eyes and breathed, "I love you." Her heart reeled every time he said it. She could hear it a million times over and never get tired. She raised her pale hand and gently stroked the side of his face. He closed his eyes but when he opened them again, Hermione was crying._

"_Sweetheart, What's wrong?"_

"_I love you too Ron, so much. But I can't bear the thought of ever losing you. It would kill me." _

_To her surprise, Ron smiled. "You're never getting rid of me Miss. Granger. You're stuck with me forever. We still have so much to do. We have to get married and have hundreds of beautiful children. We have to watch them grow up together. You have to hold my hand when I have to get a real job. We have to get old and wrinkly together, so you can nag me and I can love you more and more and more. No one is going to take that away from us."_

_She raised her eyebrows, jokingly. "Is that right?" She giggled, and he rolled on top of her, tickling her until she was laughing so much it hurt. She was so happy, it was her and Ron against the world, she believed him in that moment, nothing could separate them._

_---_

She woke up. And for those precious moments she lingered in the happy memories. Then the reality of what had happened washed over her once again and she tried not to scream out as the pain struck her. He'd been gone for exactly two weeks now and the pain didn't get any less. Just when she thought she had cried all she could, fresh waves of tears would grip her. The pain of loss wound around her heart and physically hurt her from the inside out. Food or drink or sleep no longer happened easily or held any pleasure. The world had lost its colour to her. Everything Hermione ever wanted for her future revolved around Ron. Did he even know how much she loved him? She had taken on that mission with Voldemort in order to try and stop the war so that they could be together. Instead, she had destroyed him and she was left to live.

She rolled over on to her side and saw a picture of them both together on a beach, smiling like maniacs. They can't have been very old. Ron kissed the Hermione in the picture who looked coy for a moment and then jumped on Ron. She turned away. She couldn't look; it was too painful. She would never speak to him again, she would never touch him, hear his voice, watch him come into a room and light her world up. She would never be able to hug him and bury her face in his shoulder, breathe his smell and feel like nothing could ever hurt her.

She tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind. The only way she could survive this was to keep as busy as possible. Today, there was much to be done as it was Ron's funeral, but she didn't know how she would be able to take it, if she finally had to say goodbye.

---

Everyone filed in to the church, greeting the Weasley family, Harry and Hermione in hushed voices. They were all touched by how many people had decided to come. There were many old Hogwarts students and teachers, family, family friends, ministry workers, members of the order and many other people who Ron had had some impact on. Looking around, Hermione saw that the war had taken its effect on everyone, they all looked worn and tired, each trying to survive the weight of their own sorrows, as they rebuilt their lives.

When everyone was in, the Weasley family, Hermione and Harry went and took their places at the front. A minister started to speak, but Hermione didn't hear him, she was concentrating on keeping together. She figured if she sat utterly still she could refrain from screaming out, and control the urge to shout at people and throw things.

However, when Harry got up to speak, she looked up. She had not wanted to say anything in fear of breaking down in front of everyone.

"I have never had to do something so difficult as this, as saying goodbye to Ron, my best friend. I would never be able to explain how much Ron meant to me and to us all. How much he brightened up all of our lives and how much we shall miss him until the day we die. I'm afraid there simply aren't words for that.

I met Ron on my first day at Hogwarts, and you've never seen such a couple of misfits in your life. Since that day we never looked back. Ron was the best friend anyone could ever wish for. He wasn't just my best friend; he was the brother I never had. If I ever needed a hand, Ron was there. When I needed someone to back me up, Ron would always be right behind me. Without Ron, I think I would have given up and packed it all in a long time ago. He was my rock. We never were a very sentimental pair, but I regret more than anything not telling him I loved him enough.

I'm not saying we didn't have our rough times, and hell, we got into trouble a lot more than most. But the adventures we have ended up in, we always fought together, side by side. Without Ron I wouldn't be here today and our world would be a lot different. The war would inevitably still be taking place. He has spared a lot of lives and for that alone we must salute him. He is possibly the bravest man I have met. For example, as some of you may know, Ron's biggest fear was spiders. In our second year, Ron and me ventured into the forbidden forest to 'follow the spiders'. You should have seen the look on our faces when the spiders turned out to be enormous man eating buggers. I can tell you, I've never seen Ron so scared and he has always said he would never go back in there. But I know that if he had to for the sake of Hermione, his family or me, he would go back in there like a shot.

We've had some fun times even when I thought there was no fun to be had left in the world, Ron was able to come along and make me laugh. He had a fantastic sense of humour, part of what made him such an easy person to get on with. As you can see by how many people turned up today, Ron was the best of friends. He made everyone feel at their ease, he made everyone laugh, even when he didn't realise it. To see Ron after a long summer was the best thing in the world and just knowing he was there, made everything seem possible.

To me, Ron is the hero of this war; he is my hero at least. He never once questioned what was right, even when I felt I could not continue and it was hopeless. Ron was full of a fantastic optimism, a powerful love for what is good and true in this world. If I could be one tenth of the man that Ron had become I would be happy. He was not just a hero, but he was a son, a brother, a life partner and he was a friend. He was the best damn friend I could ever have asked for. So, I ask us to be grateful that we had Ron in our lives; we were blessed to know him, and must hold onto his memory with both hands. Goodbye Ron."

Hermione felt the tears slide down her face. She saw the emotion in Harry. She knew how much he loved Ron. She felt Mrs.Weasley on her one side sob quietly into her handkerchief as Mr.Weasley gripped her hand tightly. Ginny was staring straight at Harry, forcing herself not to cry. Charlie, Bill, George and Fred were pale and shaking. "Here here!" called Fred and George.

Behind Hermione, she could hear Hagrid sobbing loudly. Mr.Weasley then squeezed Mrs.Weasley's hand and stood up.

"I am not going to say much. Because as Harry said, there is nothing that could describe how much we loved Ron and how dearly we miss him. A parent should never have to bury their child. We should not have to bury Ron. Ron died standing up for what he believed him, standing by those who he loved. He is our hero as well and we shall always remember him as that. Ron was our son, and of course we loved him dearly, whatever mess he got in. But, we came to love him as a friend, as someone we admired. He was strong, likeable, brave, kind and a pretty damn good Qudditch player! We never told him how proud we were of him. And still are. Thank you, Ron."

The rest of the funeral passed for Hermione in a blur of tears. She watched Fred and George's breathtaking firework tribute to Ron and listened to the music they played. Afterwards, Molly turned to her and took her in her arms. The only comfort Hermione had had since that day two weeks ago. She felt Molly's sorrow as she felt her own, and some how this gave her strength, as they cried unrestrainedly together.

Later, when Hermione was in bed, going over the day and as usual, talking aloud to Ron, she remembered a song she had read long ago in a muggle book:

_Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone_

_Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,_

_Silence the pianos and the muffled drum_

_Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come._

_Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead_

_Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,_

_Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,_

_Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves._

_He was my North, my South, my East, my West,_

_My working week and my Sunday rest,_

_My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;_

_I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong._

_The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;_

_Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;_

_Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood._

_For nothing now can ever come to good._

"Goodbye Ron." She whispered into the darkness.

---

(Song by W.H.Auden, I don't own it!)

**I would like to dedicate this chapter to my best friend, Laura-Jo. She is the best friend I could ever have asked for. I am so lucky to have her, so I would just like to say to her: Thank you, I love you and I am proud of you. Three things I can never say enough**.

Hope this chapter is OK. I know it took a long time to write, but I couldn't face it. I'm working on a new story. So please review for advice and support!

Love Lorna, xx


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